


Through Time

by heartspocky



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, major cockblocking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartspocky/pseuds/heartspocky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses of Daisuke and Ken's relationship through their teenage years. Sexual frustration abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Time

Daisuke’s parents are due home in twenty minutes so they have to be fast. Their quick trip into the Digital World took about twice as long as expected--the trouble that Koushiro had advised them to check out ended up being bigger than he had made it sound--and now they don’t have time for pretense. They stumble to the couch from the family computer in the corner of the living room, brushing each other with the awkward, shy kisses of a new relationship.

Daisuke ends up perched uncomfortably on the edge of the couch, the armrest digging into his lower back as Ken hovers at his side. Ken always reminds Daisuke vaguely of some sort of tall, gangly bird, constantly circling but never landing. 

Daisuke reminds Ken of Monsoon season: hot and stormy and sometimes overwhelming.

Ken makes a sudden movement, turning at the waist to lean over Daisuke in a position that can’t be comfortable, but neither boy seems to mind. Ken lightly places his hands on Daisuke’s shoulders then drops them, trailing his fingertips down Daisuke’s chest before coming to land on his sides, over his ribs. It sends a shock of excitement coursing through Daisuke’s veins, an adrenaline that’s similar to the rush he feels when V-mon evolves to defeat a larger, stronger enemy, but not quite the same.

“Ken,” Daisuke breathes, placing his hand on the back of Ken’s neck, threading his fingers through the soft, dark hair, and leans up to press their lips together. Ken never initiates but he’s never too far behind, either. Ken takes his cues from Daisuke, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t equals. They ebb and flow together, they read each other easily, each making up in abundance the skills and flaws the other lacks.

They haven’t gotten to tongue yet--they always seem to break into nervous, stifled giggles before they get the chance--but today just might be the day. 

Finally Ken hoists himself up onto the couch, straddling Daisuke, and if Daisuke had let out his strange, startled noise a second later, they might have missed the sound of the front door lock sliding open.

“Shit!” Daisuke exclaims, unceremoniously shoving Ken off of him and shuffling back down off the armrest. Ken doesn’t miss a beat; he’s busy brushing down the back of his hair where Daisuke had mussed it and sliding to the opposite side of the couch.

Daisuke’s parents burst in a split second later, happily greeting Ken and scolding Daisuke for not cleaning up a bit before he brought company over. Ken is polite and unruffled as he excuses himself.

“I should really get home,” he says, rising from the couch. “I’m sure that dinner will be ready by the time I get home and I don’t want to be late. I’ll see you soon, Daisuke.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you.”

Daisuke sulks on the couch like a fourteen-year-old mass of angst. His parents seem to notice, but don’t ask.

*

Daisuke and Ken have never been so aggressive with each other. There’s a meeting with the other chosen at the Yagami’s in about two hours, so they’re operating under a serious time crunch. If they show up late together everyone will know why, and it would be just like Miyako to comment on it as loudly and frequently as possible. 

Ken’s usual gentleness and decorum are nowhere to be found. He digs his fingers into Daisuke’s skin, kneading as Daisuke deepens their kiss, pressing their lips together roughly and hastily. At sixteen, they find that their desire for one another spurs suddenly, without any regard as to where they may need to be and when. They don’t need to ask anymore--they can communicate what they want with a look and the words seem to flow between them nonverbally, just like when XV-mon and Stingmon first Jogress evolved together.

Daisuke’s the first to swipe his tongue, and Ken meets him in return. Ken always tastes vaguely of toothpaste and the rice he ate for lunch. Daisuke tastes like summer and boyhood and bittersweet memories.

In a moment of bravery, Daisuke begins to pull off Ken’s coat. He struggles with a button, growing increasingly frustrated as his fingers slip once, twice, and a third time. Ken smiles up at him kindly, sliding his hands off of Daisuke’s sides, hovering, waiting to jump in. It isn’t needed--he finally gets it, then there’s just one more button to undo before he can pull both sides of Ken’s dark coat, revealing the pressed white shirt underneath.

Ken and Daisuke move at once, Daisuke sitting up and straddling Ken’s lap as Ken rises slightly, providing Daisuke the space he needs to push the coat down his arms. He breaks away from Ken’s mouth to trail kisses down his neck. It feels weird, the movement of muscle under soft skin as Ken stifles a sudden bubbling of laughter. In the back of his head, Daisuke finds himself hoping that the laughter isn’t at him.

Daisuke’s shirt is off entirely when the familiar distress call from a D-Terminal chimes, a reminder of their constant duty. Daisuke stares blankly at their D-3s and D-Terminals, sitting untouched on the table in front of Ken’s couch. A second chime; Ken’s message has arrived, too.

For a moment all they can do is stare at one another. Finally, slowly, Ken slides out from beneath Daisuke, picking up his D-Terminal. He lets out a long breath.

“There’s been a change. Everyone’s meeting now.”

Hearing that puts Daisuke in a sour mood. Had he been doing anything else, he’d be glad to jump into action as soon as possible. But this--this is just unfair.

“Shit,” Daisuke says under his breath, blindly throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his D-3, unceremoniously cramming it into his pocket. Ken buttons his coat rapidly, and together they venture out into the cold.

“You’re both here!” Koushiro says by way of greeting when they make it into Taichi’s room. Everyone else is currently huddled around the computer. Miyako’s the second to turn, although Takeru tears his eyes away from the screen just long enough to give them an: “It’s about time! What took you?” Neither of them want to say that they came together all the way from Tamachi.

Miyako looks at them both for a moment, connecting the dots.

“More like, what happened to you?” she asks, taking in Ken’s usually-immaculate hair messy and tousled, Daisuke’s shirt inside out and backward. Then, “Oooh, you guys!”

The boys cringe; it begins.

*

Daisuke can’t remember the last time he’s had to wait to be alone with Ken, but the meeting that just would not end finally finished up, and the other chosen finally filed out of Daisuke’s apartment much too slowly and casually for his liking. 

“About time,” Daisuke breathes, laughing, launching himself at Ken. Ken chuckles, smiling softly and meeting Daisuke’s lips in a soft kiss. “That ran about a year too long, dude.”

“It’s good to be with you,” Ken replies, and Daisuke’s heart almost explodes.

“I love you, you know that?”

Ken chuckles, warm and low into Daisuke’s ear. 

“I know. And I love you.”

At eighteen, they’re giddy with first love and sincere, well-meaning promises. Their mouths meet in sweet, soft kisses. Daisuke gives Ken an experimental bump, their groins brushing through light layers of summer clothing, happy when Ken takes his hips and presses up. There’s no friction per se, but there’s this wonderful little pressure that sends a jolt of electricity through his body, and it’s him and Ken and it’s all just so good.

Ken’s grip loosens and his hands slide down, finding their home on Daisuke’s ass. Daisuke knows he’s practically grinning into Ken’s mouth as their lips clash again. Daisuke’s always thought that they were the best couple among the chosen children; they had the best relationship and he was certain they had the best sex. 

Ken has never seen any need for comparison.

A door down the hall squeaks open but they barely pay mind; their partners tend to come and go as they please. Minomon and Chibimon are probably goofing off in the next room so Daisuke and Ken will need to be somewhat careful, but that’s something they can keep at the back of their minds while something a little more... urgent is currently occupying space in the front.

Together they roll Daisuke onto his back, or maybe Daisuke just grabs Ken and pulls him on top, Ken’s startled laughter ringing better than music in Daisuke’s ears. Ken sits up, straddling him, and Daisuke only has a moment to register the look of surprise on his face before five pounds of hyperactive dragon hops onto his stomach, the shock more than the weight knocking the air right out of him.

“Daisuke!” Chibimon calls. “I’m hungry!” Daisuke scowls. Ken is already dismounting, straightening his clothes and bending at the waist to scoop up Minomon. “You said we could order food!”

“Yeah, twelve minutes ago!” Daisuke grumbles. Chibimon nods. “Didn’t we tell you we’d order food in a half hour?” Chibimon nods. Daisuke defers to Ken, who’s looking at him with an amused little smile playing on his lips. It’s a go-ahead but not really--Daisuke knows the decision has already been made. Groaning, he sits up, letting Chibimon roll off his stomach and onto his lap. Then he stands, Chibimon scrambling off his lap and onto the couch, bouncing in anticipation. 

Daisuke reaches over to give Ken’s shoulder a light squeeze. 

“...We’ll pick this up later, yeah?” Ken’s smile doesn’t change, and he’s slow to respond. Daisuke already knows it’s a not tonight and curses the entire Digital World a little bit. All he can think is that the food better be damn good.

*

At twenty, the wanting and needing and craving has waned but not ceased. The touch of a hand or kiss on the lips seems less forbidden and more of the mark of an average day. A quick kiss on the forehead at the start of a meeting or outing with friends and family no longer earns funny little comments or smug, knowing looks. It’s no longer school, homework, extracurriculars, and Digital World, then quick grinding sessions and stolen kisses in that order. There’s always work to be done, in and out of the Digital World, but in between it’s comfortable silence as Daisuke and Ken do their own activities in a shared space, enjoy their lazy, tired sex at night, and engage in playful shoulder bumps in the morning as they compete for the bathroom.

Daisuke isn’t one to settle. He likes change, he likes to move, he likes to yell and run and he’ll fight anything or anyone just to rid himself of his boundless, sourceless energy. But sitting next to Ken slows his pulse and his heartbeat, it calms and soothes him. Laying next to him is better, sheets pooled around their legs, breathless, a little sore, hands clasped. 

The first time Daisuke felt Ken’s heartbeat, the sensation seemed to envelope him as a golden light shined, enabling V-Mon to Armor Evolve by some last-minute miracle. The first time Ken felt Daisuke’s heartbeat, XV-Mon and Stingmon combined. It doesn’t take that much anymore; they feel each other’s hearts beating when they’re alone in their bedroom or when they’re settled on the couch half on top of each other. Daisuke invigorates Ken, makes him bolder and stand taller. Daisuke makes Ken want to get up in the morning. 

At seven the alarm goes off and they roll out of bed, slowly making their way to the kitchen. Ken starts water for tea as Daisuke begins pulling pots, pans, and nori out from the cupboards. Every day it’s something new, new recipes and new smells and the occasional new disaster. 

Once the food is underway Daisuke leans over for a kiss. Ken is mere seconds away from obliging when the electric kettle sounds and with an apologetic look, Ken pulls away to remove it from the heated base. Then he’s back in Daiskue’s arms--or maybe it’s the other way around--and suddenly, Daisuke is so, so hungry for Ken that he wants to forget about the soup boiling away on the stove and just kiss him for hours and hours. But the begrudgingly responsible side of him ends the kiss with only a swipe of tongue so he can give the ingredients a quick stir, to add the miso and green onions so they can get eating. 

At twenty, Daisuke has gotten better at remembering that they have time. With Ken, he knows that some things can wait because there are so many more years stretching ahead of them. They’re ready to greet every last one, together.


End file.
